


worn & pitiful

by exquisitelymorose



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/F, Shared Clothing, Vanity, post conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 05:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exquisitelymorose/pseuds/exquisitelymorose
Summary: Charity spends an hour on the couch crying until she’s dry. She really hasn’t done it all that much, opting instead for quiet anger or stomping rage, all against herself.Her eyes burn, her skin feels like it stings. The boys will be home in an hour and she has to get it together. To be a mum to them, a better mum than she allowed herself to be when they had two caring for them. So she picks herself up, weary in her bones, and climbs the godforsaken stairs.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	worn & pitiful

She looks pitiful.

And somewhere in her cracked, broken chest, Vanessa knows she cares.

But right now she is so angry she thinks Charity absolutely deserves this. To look this, to feel this.

The other woman says nothing as she swings the door open. It’s likely the first time, maybe the only time, she’s stunned Charity Dingle into silence. Something about it is relieving because really, she’s not sure what she wants her to say. She’s sick of apologies, she’s more sick of excuses.

“I forgot a few things,” she says finally, curtly, coldly.

Charity steps aside, eyes down, “course.” And lets Vanessa back in. 

She makes her way back to the couch as the smaller woman moves toward the stairs. She wants to follow, wants to say 1000 things, ask tens of questions about how Vanessa is doing, what she’s feeling. She’s been dreaming of this moment, this chance for over a week but it doesn’t feel right. The woman walking within their home, her home, away from her, does not feel like her fiancé. 

Vanessa no longer feels like a person she has a right to. 

So, for possibly the first time, she sits silently and doesn’t try to atone for her sins with half-truths and vague, empty promises. 

She can hear the light shuffling overhead, unique to Vanessa, not something she can pretend to hear when it’s Moses or Chas or Noah mucking about. She misses it so much, it hurts. When silence overtakes the room she suddenly remembers the light blue cotton shirt. 

It’s just an old, faded thing that Vanessa wore to bed often. Comfortable and worn, one of her favourites. Charity had slipped into it two nights ago, finally able to stand the smell of Vanessa without needing or wanting to vomit, just wanting to feel her. She’d slept, really slept, for the first time that night, able to pretend that she was still there. She knows she’s tossed it on the overstuffed chair in the corner where a pair of work pants and Vanessa’s newest book purchases are sat. 

In moments it will be gone with the rest. Nothing left of the other woman.

Charity knows she deserves at least that much. 

Barely a minute later, Vanessa is coming down the stairs. Charity takes a breath and turns toward her. There’s a lot she knows she can’t say right now, bridges that need to be mended with patience and time but this one, this can’t wait.

She clears her throat, “Vanessa?”

It’s the smallest she’s ever sounded.

Vanessa takes a breath too, braces before squaring herself toward her ex-fiancé with one quirked eyebrow.

“Johnny,” Charity starts, “I miss-” she stops and chokes back a sound, “Moses misses him. We all do. I know we’ll have to work something out, something more – official, but for now, when can I see him? Can – can I see him?” It’s difficult for her to work through the question, mostly because she’s afraid of the answer.

But Vanessa’s already thought about this. Her son is her entire world, the one thing she can’t compromise. She doesn’t know if Charity deserves that part of her back in her life. But Johnny’s life has been built on spite and abandonment – a relationship gone sour with Kirin. For all her faults, Charity is a better mum then she’ll ever believe and her bond with Johnny is not just something to be ripped from them. 

She doesn’t want to do the logistics. The schedules and the drop offs and the difficult conversations with the boys every time they have to separate again. But she’d never be able to forgive herself for unraveling their lives just because hers is falling apart. 

She sighs long and hard, tries not to think about how much the crack in Charity’s voice is wanting to send her into her arms. 

“Best we start a routine now.”

Charity looks blank for a moment, surprised nearly, before pulling off a quick nod. 

“I get my schedule in a few days, then I’ll text you. We’ll figure out a day for Johnny to come here and for Moses to come to mine.”

“Probably best to have sleepovers, yeah? Then they can go to school together and it won’t be so hard for them to have to say goodbye at home. I want them both to feel comfortable and happy in” she swallows hard, “their – our homes.”

For just a moment, they both feel as if they’re back in their lives. Rushing in opposite directions, comparing schedules and times and drop offs between packed lunches and a rushed kiss or two. 

Then there’s the reminder of the painful reality of their lives. 

No longer together. 

“Let me think about it.”

“Course, babe.”

They both kind of wince at that. 

“Alright then.” Vanessa nods, avoiding eye contact and turning herself toward the door. Charity pushes herself up and follows behind, keeping her distance. 

When the woman she loves, who she’ll always love, turns to her with those blue eyes watering, Charity wishes she hadn’t left the couch.

Her voice cracks, “why?” It leaves her mouth, a broken wretched sound that Charity knows is asking so many things.

Why did you do it?

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why did you make me do this to us?

How could you do this to me?

How are you watching me in such pain, knowing what you did?

Why? 

Why?

Why?

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing every moment of every day.”

“And?”

“I’m selfish.”

Vanessa snorts, an eye roll, it’s petty but understanding. 

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Vanessa... just that, I’m still learning how to do it properly” she takes a breath, “at least, I was trying.”

Vanessa only nods shortly before turning toward the door.

Then she’s gone. 

Charity spends an hour on the couch crying until she’s dry. She really hasn’t done it all that much, opting instead for quiet anger or stomping rage, all against herself.

Her eyes burn, her skin feels like it stings. The boys will be home in an hour and she has to get it together. To be a mum to them, a better mum than she allowed herself to be when they had two caring for them. So she picks herself up, weary in her bones, and climbs the godforsaken stairs.

The bath water runs, steam curling into the air. Charity strips down in the bedroom, avoids looking toward Vanessa’s nightstand now rid of her hand cream and half read novel. There’s no real difference but the room, it feels empty. 

She wants nothing more than to slip into the water and have it envelop her completely. 

A few days ago Chas had scooped all her clothes off the floor and thrown them into the wash without a word. Someone had to do it. She remembers now that she’d folded the soft black knit and put it in the wardrobe. With a towel pulled around herself, she reaches in to rummage around and find it. 

But on top is something she wants even more. 

Vanessa’s worn, blue cotton. Folded and waiting. 

For her.

**Author's Note:**

> This plot line will be the death of me. Please leave your kudos and any comments with what you'd like to see or read of Vanity.


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